Rent In Several Easy Steps
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: A fifteenminute kind of thing with RENT. This is just a little something...you know. i love RENT with all my heart, believe me. rated T for a LOT of language, especially Joanne and Roger.
1. Tune Up 1 to Light My Candle

**this is my attempt at a condensed RENT kind of thing. it probably sucks...but whatevs.**

_In the loft..._

Mark: Hi, I'm Mark and he's Roger. We live in a crappy little place that I'm going to talk about for a while. Electrical appliances, posters, pretty damn hot trash can…okay, I'm done! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas, yadda yadda yadda. Roger, smile while I push a camera in your face and rub in the fact that you suck as a songwriter!

Roger: Fuck off.

Mark's Mom: Mark, I am one of those moms people have nightmares about. Call me or I'll send those baby pictures of you to my entire address book. Your girlfriend dumped you for a woman. Bye!

Mark: at Roger Ha, you suck!

Roger: Fuck off.

Collins: Hi. Too busy getting mugged to talk.

Mark: …the fuck? Anyway, Roger, you still suck!

Roger: Fuck o—

Benny: Pay me, bitches.

Mark: To quote Roger: fuck off, Benny.

Benny: Yeah, whatever. How's the whole devirginization-with-Maureen plan going? You two still an item?

Mark: No. Go die.

Roger: Maureen's a lesbian now. Fuck off.

Benny: Ha, that's really amusing, although considering she was with you, Mark, it's not surprising. After all, a girl can only take so much of her boyfriend lusting after Roger.

Mark: You motherfu—

Benny: Gotta go. Coffin out!

Roger: (plays theme from ancient opera that no one in their right mind should know)

Power: (blows)

Mark: Shit.

Company: LALALALALALALA-RENT-LALALALA-BLOODCELLS-LALALALALA-FABRIC-LALALA

Maureen's equipment: (dies)

Joanne: Ooooooh shit...

_On the street…_

Collins: Wow, being beaten until you start coughing blood sort of sucks. Guess I'll smoke a little. (starts to light joint)

Angel: Yoohoo! Watch me prance in the seriously kick-ass sparkle jeans!

Collins: (drops joint and stares) Holy mother of Jesus…

Angel: Hey, hon. Come on, you're rather hot so I'll take you home, feed you, care for you, give you clothes and some amazing sex if you're nice…

Collins: (drools)…wha?

Angel: We'll work on articulateness later. Come on! (drags Collins off)

_Back at the loft…_

Mark: Rog, I'm going to go stare at Maureen's ass for a bit. Want to come?

Roger: Fuck off.

Mark: Suit yourself. Save that ancient coffee for me; Benny turned off our water and I think I'm going to need a cold shower. That'll have to do...(exits)

Roger: (bangs head against wall) Angst, angst, angst…

Mimi: knocks Anybody here? Don't matter, I'm coming in. Light my candle, you.

Roger: Fuck o—no, wait! That's the first ass I've seen that doesn't remind me of "The Dark Side of the Moon." Come back!

Mimi: (eyes Roger) Did I say light my candle, you? I meant light my candle, you gorgeous hunk of man candy…(waves bottom suggestively)

Roger: (lights candle, at the same time coming dangerously close to dropping the match and giving Mimi third-degree burns because he's staring the Mini-Grand Canyon that is her cleavage) Wait, AIDS coming to mind. Fuck off.

Mimi: Shit, I dropped my smack. Where is it? (gets down on hands and knees)

Roger: (stuffs hands in mouth to keep self from grabbing Mimi's butt)

Mimi: Oh, where is it? Please help me, mister…

Roger: Mmmf.

Mimi: Ahh, it's in your pocket. (grabs it) Thanks, sweet cheeks! (exits)

Roger: Holy shit, I need a cold shower. But Benny shut off our water…hmm…(uses three-day-old coffee) Ah, that's better. Mark'll have to deal.

**dear god, i scare myself. oh well. review? between a couple other stories, i might not be able to update much, however, reviews might convince me otherwise.**


	2. Voice Mail 2 to Life Support

**I'm home sick and my brain is on hold, so this makes NO SENSE. But i needed something to do...**

Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson: Joanne, we have money and you can't get any. Wear a bra. Bye.

_The loft…_

Colins: Yo, dudes, what's up? (pelts Mark and Roger with cereal and firewood and Silly String)

Mark: Hi, Collins. Ow! Please stop with the throwing and the singing and the oh hey, is that vodka?

Roger: Yo.

Collins: Roger, you make me feel sad. Here, let me pour Stoli down your throat.

Roger: Hell yes. So…meet any hot Massachusetts guys?

Collins: Sadly, no. Funny you should mention hot guys…Angel, come on DOOOOOWN!

Angel: (dance, dance, dance) I killed a dog for money. Love me forever and yes, you all wish you could have my legs. Join the club.

Collins: I told you she was hot! See? See?

Mark and Roger: (exchange disturbed looks)

Benny: Yo, yo, yo, wassup, my homie Gs? Hook a brother up with some rent, why dontcha?

Mark: (slaps Benny)

Benny: Thanks, I needed that. Anyway, rent please.

Roger: Fuck off.

Benny: Like I didn't see that coming. Anyway, a cyber studio would be _good_ for you! Big pretty computers, shiny walls, condos…tell me when I've said the right thing.

Mark: I agree with Roger. Fuck off.

Benny: (shrug) Your loss. But just remember this: I'll get you, my pretties, and your little dog too! Speaking of dogs…anyone seen mine?

Angel: Soooo anyone up for Life Support?

Mark: Gotta go ogle Maureen right now, but later's good.

Roger: Howsabout NO.

Collins and Mark: Aw, is ickle Rogerkins being cwanky?

Roger: (kicks them)

Angel: Now boys, Roger has issues that we need to respect. Like not having a girlfriend and being sexually repressed. Speaking of sexual…coming, Collins?

Collins: (bounces up and down) To use a quote that author really likes and uses 24/7, especially in this fic…HELL yes.

Mark and Roger: (exchange very disturbed looks, then glare at author)

Me: Damn, it's fun to mess with them. Now, where's my Wilson snuggle-doll?

_The lot…_

Joanne: Fuck, fuck, and oh yeah, FUCK!

Mark: (hesitates) This might not be a good time…

Me: (nudge nudge) Go on, Marky. The least she can do is…go on, Marky.

Mark: Um…hi…I'm Mark…

Joanne: Mark? The Accursed One?

Mark: Yeah, I'm leaving now…

Joanne: Don't you dare. Maureen needs this done and darn if she didn't use the nipple trick again. I'm helpless; work, geeky-boy!

Me: (pokes Joanne) His geeky-boyness is what's so cute about him!

Joanne: And YOU can just go stick your head in a—

Mark: The nipple trick, huh? That's a bad one. Got me every time.

Joanne: REALLY? Did she use the ass thing with you too?

Mark: OMG! We, like, totally need to go get some ice cream and talk, we have SO much in common!

Me: Dear lord…

_Life Support…_

Paul: Now, we'll all stand up and say our names and our favorite foods, okay? This is a getting-to-know-you game!

Steve: Steve…gummi worms.

Gordon: Gordon…calzone.

Ali: Ali…those cute little chewable peckers.

Pam: Pam…and that's just wrong.

Sue: Sue…where might one buy these chewable peckers you speak of?

Angel: Hi, I'm Angel…I killed a dog.

Collins: Tom…Collins…mmm…dog…

Paul: Now then, does anyone remember our mantra?

Steve: Be kind, rewind?

Paul: Um…noooo…

Mark: Hi!

Paul: Wow, this is popular. And you are?

Mark: Here for the girls, man! Sue, I can tell you exactly where—

Gordon: My needs, remember? Anyway, I'm, like, sad, and like, you know…shit.

Paul: Have you tried Prozac?

Gordon: Hmmm…

**like i said, NO sense.**


	3. Out Tonight to Christmas Bells

**this is not funny whatsoever. i am simply bored out of my skull, so i am writing it. do not sue for gross wastage of time (is wastage a word? it should be).**

Mimi: To strip or not to strip…hmm, no question there. Anyway, time to commit B & E. Hey hon, wanna be my high-as-a-kite boy?

Roger: Gasp! You dare to approach me with that accursed substance? Begone!

Mimi: Um…yes, well anyway. Wild, crazy guess here; it's not about the smack, it's about your weird little dead-girlfriend-afraid-of-intimacy angst, right?

Roger: In the sense that it's your fault, not mine, yes. Now get out.

Mimi: Wow. Hurtful. Like there aren't fifty other guys lusting after me day and night. Oh well, too bad it didn't work out with him.

Roger: She's so crushed…no, I can't. Guess I'll just sit here and whine; seems to be what I'm best at.

_Life Support…_

Life Supportees: Always look on the briiiight side of life…doo doo, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…

Mark, Angel, Collins: Laters, gators.

_On the street…_

Squeegee Man: I have two lines to say. Praise the sweet Virgin Mother for my good fortune.

Angel: Well that's no way to look at it, Mr. Sarcasm.

Squeegee Man: Oh, just let the fucking cars run me over, for the love of God.

Bag Lady: Boy, get that camera out of my face or I'll rearrange yours.

Mark: (sniffle) That's…that's mean…

Angel: Grow up, Mark.

Collins: I really, really want to go to some random place in New Mexico, despite the fact that I'm broke and New Mexico has tons of mosquitoes…man, this isn't really that funny. What's wrong with you? (glares at author)

Me: Look, here's a tip: do not bother the author when she's had three hours of sleep in the last twenty four hours and PMS is at full peak. I wouldn't if I were you.

Collins: Yes. Point taken.

Me: Hmph. (goes off to find ice cream)

_Twenty minutes later…_

Me: I'm back! Ok now, where were we?

Mark: Gotta go bug Roger. Bye.

Angel: Love you, hon.

Collins: Love you more.

Both: (dance, dance, dance)

Me: I love this song. I can't parody it. I just can't.

_St. Mark's Place…_

Homeless People: Our lives suck. No one tries to shove commercial Christmas stuff in _our_ faces. Man, how'd we get so unlucky? Anyways…buy our stuff, damn it.

Coat Vendor: Wow; Bag Lady to Coat Vendor in one minute flat. Promotions come to those deserving, eh?

Squeegee Man: Fuck. Off.

Angel: Hmm…baby, I think this Hello Kitty sweater would go nicely with your eyes.

Collins: Holy shit…um, Angel, you don't have to do this. Really.

Angel: Shut up, it's Christmas. Nothing's too good for you, honey.

Collins: Distraction technique, distraction technique…I don't deserve you. Make me feel better. (pouts)

Angel: Awww…(forgets about Hello Kitty sweater and drags Collins off to a roomy alley. Collins makes mental note to burn Sweater From Hell later.)

Mark: Roger, you total idiot. A stripper likes you enough to break into our apartment, offer you drugs, and do the "take me, I'm yours" bit, and you GOT RID OF HER?!

Roger: I'm angsting. We angsty folk are picky. Let's go eat or something…oh crap. It's Mimi. Hide me!

Mark: Holy shit…you know, Rog, old buddy, you're right. She's not good enough for you. I'll take her off your hands.

Roger: Don't you dare.

Mark: But you—

Roger: (growls territorially)

Junkies: Drugs. Now.

Mimi: What they said. Oh…hi, Roger, what's up?

Roger: I can see how insanely upset I made you…will a dinner invitation keep you from despairing?

Mimi: But I'm fine. I respect your wishes and—

Roger: Ok, now you're depressing me with your groveling. Take it or leave it.

Mimi: Oh what the hell? Sure.

The Man: Hands off the customer, man.

Roger: She's throwing herself at me shamelessly. There's nothing I can do.

Mimi: For the love of God…

Everyone: (REALLY BIG LOUD NOISE. The final conclusion is as follows: Collins now has his very own Matrix-ripoff coat, Mark and Mimi and Roger are going to the show, and Benny is a wiseass. Plus I'm now completely deaf.)

Maureen: (rides in on tricycle) Joanne, where's the stage? I want…oh look, a pigeon! (runs off after pigeon)

Me: Short attention span. Shameful.

**holy crap, that's bad.**


	4. Over The Moon to LVB B

**this is REALLY stupid, and yet i still write it. how ironic.**_  
_

_At the lot.._

Maureen: There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home…oh Elsie, it was the realest dream! You were there, Benny, and you and you…and you, Mr. Moony Man!

Crowd: She's acting like she's either off her meds or really, really high…hey, maybe she'll give us some of whatever's making her high! Let's cheer really loud and put her in a giving mood!

Maureen: Wow, I'm so appreciated…Hey, maybe I can use this. Benny sucks and the homeless should stay! Who's with me??!!

Crowd: Did she say moo with me? Oh well, crazy lady might share if we do it.

Crowd: (moos)

Police: Shit. They all think they're cows! Okay, time to bring in the crazy wagon.

Crowd: Hey, what are you doing? We're only mooing because she told us to!

Police: Suuuuuuure…like I haven't heard 'she TOLD us to moo' before…

Maureen: Woops. Time to skedaddle.

_The Life Café…_

Waiter: No! PLEASE go away, I've got VIPS coming…

Cool People (i.e. our friends plus some other guys): Yeah, don't care. (sit at giant conference table)

Benny: Shit. Maybe I can sort of sneak in without being noticed…(does James Bond thing where he crawls on the ceiling. However, it fails and he falls off the ceiling onto Roger's head, squishing him) WAAAAH!

Roger: Ooph! (squishes)

Benny: Heh heh…um…so this is awkward…

Mark: Not really. I always wondered if a yuppie guy falling off the ceiling would squish Roger or not. Thanks for the help.

Collins: Mark, you REALLY need to find another girlfriend.

Benny: ANYways, that pretty much sucked, Maureen. Ha ha.

Maureen: Damn your eyes.

Benny: Oh, give it up. Bohemia is out of style. Calcutta is the trend now.

Mark: Au contraire, my fashion-ignorant friend! You see, we are now introducing…(flourishes madly) the Bohemian funeral gear! Complete with mourning veil!

Cool People: (Dance dance dance) Alcohol…porno…masturbation…tap dancing on tables…yeah, we've pretty much got it. Except, you know, for the whole AIDS thing. And the fact that we're dirt broke.

Benny: (pulls Mimi aside) What's the dilly-o with you and Roger?

Mimi: Fuck off, we're friends.

Benny: And I'm supposed to believe that.

Mimi: It would make me feel a whole lot better if you did.

Collins: As a Christmas gift to all those horny young guys with no girlfriends, Mimi Marquez will play hopscotch without a shirt on!

Roger: Mark will make a solo-porn video on Yom Kippur!

Mark: Maureen will do a lot of crazy shit like she always does and then—umph!

Maureen: (jumps on Mark and sticks her tongue in his mouth)

Joanne: (sees such a thing occur)

Collins: Ok, then…anyway, Angel here will do the moonwalk on the table in a miniskirt! DAMN, I think I've been good this year, Santa is definitely delivering…

Angel: And Mr. Hormones over there will blow up a college and broadcast "Two for one, every Wednesday" around the country!

Cool People: WOOt! WEDNESDAY!!!!

Mimi: Roger, you ass, you've dragged me along the whole night and you don't even have the courtesy to slip me any tongue!

Roger: I'm doing my best, give me a break. I am (sniffle) angsting…

Mimi: Well, so am I! The entirety of New York is pretty much angsting, you're nothing special! The rest of us just know how to have fun with it.

Beeper: (beeps)

Mimi: Oops. Time for the Big Fat Meaningful Pill Break.

Roger: Wait…you have AIDS too?

Mimi: Oh honestly, you didn't know that? EVERYONE knows that! If I didn't, I wouldn't be one of the coolest characters! Only the cool characters in this show have AIDS!

Mark and Maureen: We resent that.

Roger: Um…yes, anyway. I'm sorry, will you make out with me?

Mimi: Finally. Come here, you. (pulls Roger offstage into the Mysterious Abyss for Making Out and Assorted Groping).

Joanne: Ho hum, there's a padlock on your apartment, police are swarming over the lot, Maureen, I'm dumping you, and oh yeah, everyone in the crowd is still mooing and making a big shitstorm of trouble for Benny and Co.

Cool People: YAY!

Maureen: YA—wait, what was that other thing you said?

Mark: She's single again! Somebody slap me!

Angel: (obliges)

Mark: (falls to the floor with a whump)

Mark: Whump!

Act 1: (ends as Mimi and Roger do an amoebas-oozing-together party trick. Everyone claps for them.)

Me: Hee hee! Whump! I slay myself…Now, to go find Mark and pull him into the Mysterious Abyss for Making Out and Assorted Groping…

**i really must find a way to accomplish such a thing.**


	5. Seasons Of Love to Without You

**gah. the end of this is really bad, most,ly becuase i was actually sad and not in the mood for funniness. but i digress.**_  
_

_Big fat empty place... _

Everyone: Measure a year in love, and if that doesn't work, try a ruler._  
_

_New Year's Eve…_

Mimi: Life is sweet, ain't it, Roger dearest? I'm giving up the smack—but not really—and I'm going back to school—but not really—and I will stay true to you forever—but not really!

Roger: Sounds good to me, honey buns!

Mimi: I'm so glad, sweetie pie!

Mark: I'm going to barf on your honey buns _and_ your sweetie pies if you two don't shut up. Now get to work busting down that door. I left some…um…educational reading matter under my mattress and I want it back.

Roger: You mean those magazines that you only read for the articles, right?

Mark: I do read them for the articles! And even if I didn't, there's nothing wrong with a young boy's curiosity!

Mimi: New subject, please.

Mark: Right, right. Where's everyone else?

Mimi: Getting spruced up for our little shindig here.

Maureen: (walks in wearing a coating of black spray paint and cat ears) Wassup, guys?

Mark: (swallows his tongue) Mmmph…MMMPH…

Roger: Hey Mark, is that a camera tripod down your pants, or are you just happy to see her?

Maureen: Aw, Marky, I'm glad you like it. Maybe you can put it in another video to sell to the media. After all, I'm the one they want.

Mimi: No, you're the one Mark _wants_.

Maureen: Whatever. How's it going with the breaking in thingy?

Roger: Not so great. This lock is all frigid and unforgiving.

Maureen: Sort of like Joanne. (flips open cell phone) Pookie, please pick up! I want to say I'm sorry! I'll do anything for you…even a lap dance! And to spice it up, I _am_ wearing my special New Year's outfit…

Joanne: (skids inside, leaving track marks on the ground) After-a-lot-of-difficult-thought-I've-decided-to-take-you-back-lap-dance-please?

Maureen: Yay! But don't you want me to grovel? In my glorious black spray…lying on the cold ground…biting my lip like so…

Joanne: Oh, for fuck's sake. (drags Maureen off with a vengeance, while Mark follows in a horny trance)

Roger: Mimi, I'm feeling really happy right now. Do you have any idea why?

Mimi: Mightn't it be because of the game we played last night?

Roger: Yes…yes…_game_…

Collins: (swoops in on grappling hook) Everyone like my Batman costume?

Angel: (does triple back flip) And my Cat Girl costume?

Mimi: _Love_ the clip-on whip and handcuffs, Ang.

Angel: I know. Stroke of genius, right?

Collins: Hell yes. Mimi, got anything alcoholic of any kind? I am so ready to be drunk it's not even funny.

Mimi: There's this cleaning alcohol…

Collins: MINE! (grabs and swigs, though luckily misses toxic stuff and instead grabs the Magical Appearing Champagne Bottle of Joy)

Angel: Calm down, honey. I'm going to use my heels to pick the lock now.

Maureen: (over in a corner) That's enough, baby, I don't want to have to reapply this stuff.

Joanne: Grrr…fine…

Mark: (who has conveniently unswallowed his tongue) Hey, look! Phone on!

_Speak_…

Mark's Mom: Marky, you finally amounted to something. Took you long enough. Call your father, you're Jewish, bu-bye.

Alexi Darling: OMG, like, HI, Mark! I, like, LOVED your footage, and like, WOW, I want you to work for _Buzzline!_ You can, like, beep me or call me or email me or, like, ANYTHING! Weeeee!

Mark: Um…all righty then…

Maureen: Woo-hoo! Stardom, here I come!

Joanne: Dream on.

Mark: Maureen, for the love of God, _please_ skip down the stairs like that again!

Everyone Else: Yo, dudes, PAR-TAY!

Benny: Heh heh…hi…

Mark: Shit, what are you doing here, Benny?

Benny: I'm, like, here to negotiate for peace. Here's a brand new lease, rent-free. Mimi was extremely…_flexible_ in her persuasion techniques.

Roger: Wait, what now?

Maureen: Benny, you suck. Go fuck your little establishment aristocrat and leave us alone.

Benny: Quite honestly, Maureen, I wasn't listening to a word you said. Damn, girl, that's some paint job!

Joanne: Eyes off, buddy (growls).

Roger: (sticks out tongue at Benny)

Benny: Oh my god, you bully! Mimi, you seductress, make him leave me alone!

Roger: Fuck off!

Benny: Oh, and Mimi, that dominatrix ensemble you modeled the other day was simply stunning.

Roger: Fuck off!

Benny: And anytime you want to help me reorganize my desk—you know, every since, we messed it up—that'll be fine with me.

Roger: AARGH! (jumps at Benny, though is sadly stopped by author)

Roger: Lemme at him, damn you!

Me: Oh, grow up! Benny, you're outta there. (boots Benny out) Everyone party!

Roger: Not in the mood…Mimi, you slut!

Mimi: Now, see that right there? THAT'S why girls keep leaving you, Roger!

Roger: Fine, sorry, sorry, kiss and make up?

Mimi: Sure. (kiss)

Everyone Else: Awww…NOW PAR-TAY!

Mimi: (secretly) Hey…how much for some smack?

The Man: Heh heh heh…I am OMINOUS and I love it…heh heh heh…

_The lot…_

Mark: Okiedoke, here's the deal. Roger's at Mimi's, fucking her and complaining at the same time. Angel and Collins are fucking each other someplace else. Maureen and Joanne are arguing and fucking. I…am reading _Playboy_. Now go away.

Maureen: Joanne, pay attention to MY needs! I don't fuck as well without constant flirting!

Joanne: Be that as it may, you're a bitch!

Maureen: Oh ho HO, so now it comes out! Well, go off and sulk, I don't care!

Joanne: (stomps angrily) Fine!

Maureen: Fine!

Me: I hate this part…it's where everything gets all sad…do I have to write about it?

Other People: yes, you wimp.

Me: (cries) It's a cruel world…

_Mimi's apartment…_

Mimi: (hurries in while tucking little packet into her cleavage) Hey, hon…what's up?

Roger: HOW DARE YOU! I'm feeling cranky and hostile, and you're not helping!

Mimi: But…I just said—

Roger: Oh, go cry to Benny. I think I'm having theoretical PMS, and I don't like it! (storms off)

Mimi: (digs around in cleavage until she finds smack, only to throw it away) Without you…the flowers bloom…the beer is always gone…computers crash over and over and over again…it's two-for-one night at the department store…I can't get the fucking cap back onto the toothpaste tube…

Angel: (gets sick)

Collins: (is nice)

Me: (cries my fucking eyes out)

Everyone Else Except Mark: (weeps for the world)

Mark: For the love of god, am I the ONLY person who is not angsty right now?

Me: Your girlfriend left for a woman who she can't stop fighting with, your best friends are dying off left and right, and you're the color of uncooked codfish.

Mark: I…hate…you…(joins in group weeping)

**GAH!**


	6. Voice Mail 4 to What You Own

**i REALLY love writing this.**_  
_

_Speak… _

Alexi Darling: Markypoo! I'm, like, taking my vacation out here in like, OMG, paradise! That's like, Emilio Estevez, and OH MY GOD, is that Jesse L. Martin?

Me: If only…if only…

Alexi: Anyhoo, I so totally still want you for the show! You're, like, totally broke, so come on down and I'll make you FABU! Bye-bye!

Everyone: Hmmm, our lives are crumbling around us and society is twisting into a monstrous, capitalist mess, so now seems like a good time for some wonderful, sweaty, under-a-giant-parachute fucking.

Mark: Oh, no, not for the unsoiled Mark. No, never, unthinkable! I hate you all.

Angel: This is really pretty damn hot and all, but I'm afraid time is crawling along and it's time for my big dramatic death scene. Take me, take, me, yadda, yadda, yadda. Adios!

Everyone Else Not Dead: You just haven't been the same in bed since all that weeping-for-the-world during Without You and shit. I think I'm going to leave you, -insert appropriate significant other's name(s) here-.

Collins: I'm not like that! I'll stay true to you, Angel!...Angel? Hello? Angel? Where the hell did you go?

Me: Ooooh crap, this is the song where I can't stop crying…of course, I can't stop sobbing through Without You, Goodbye Love, I'll Cover You, and a shitload of other songs…okay, never mind.

Collins: Angel, I really loved you…_all_ of you, not just your amazing ass…I'm feeling really depressed…

Everyone Else: Us too.

Me: Me three.

Mark: Fine, I'll take the damn job. Why is everything happening to me?! Is the world against me and the magic Imax in my mind?

_Cemetery…_

Mimi: Roger, you fuck, I hear you're headed to Santa Fe.

Roger: Yup. And I hear you're dating the yuppie douche-bag again, right?

Benny: I take serious offence to that. Come, Mimi.

Mimi: Fuck off.

Maureen: Yeah, you idiot.

Joanne: Don't you be opening your mouth, you harpy!

Maureen: That's it, use the big words, why don't you!

Mimi, Joanne: You both suck! Go to hell!

Maureen, Roger: Oh yeah?

Mimi, Joanne: Yeah!

Maureen, Roger: Well, you both…um…you both smell like cucumber!

Mark, Benny: Calm d—wait, what?

Mimi, Joanne: Angel had it good; someone who gave a fuck about her needs _and_ actually fucked too!

Roger: OK, THAT'S IT! (flies into murderous rage and begins spastically kicking a gravestone)

Everyone Else: (watches in confused silence)

Roger: AAARGH! AAARGH! GAAAAAAAAH!

Collins: Roger, calm down! You promised you'd be nice today! Be good, the author is watching…

Mark: No, she isn't. She's off eating chocolate and hugging a picture of Jonathan Larson.

Maureen: Not to mention crying into tissues with pictures of us on them, sitting on a chair with pictures of us on it, and getting tears all over her ensemble of clothes with pictures of us on them.

Mimi: Wow. Who said it wasn't cool to have a stalker-ish fan girl?

Me: (sniffle) Be quiet…

Collins: Ahem. Back to the subject at hand. Angel was always really awesome, and you people need to follow her example. Now excuse me while I go to curl up into the fetal position and weep.

Everyone Except Mimi, Mark, and Roger: Can we join you?

Collins: Feel free.

Everyone Except Mentioned Three: (leaves)

Mimi: (hides)

Mark: Hey, they have some excellent food joints out West, right?

Roger: I hate my life. Mimi sucks. Angel's dead. I feel cranky and pubescent, despite the fact that I'm over twenty. I have itchy back hair.

Mark: Um...actually, I just wanted to know if you could send me some ribs or something.

Roger: Mark, you sort of suck too.

Mark: Oh, fine. You can forget the hot sauce.

Roger: You'll kill yourself, eating like that.

Mark: PERHAPS I'LL BE THE ONE OF US TO SURVIVE! EVER THINK OF THAT?!

Roger: Wow. And I thought I was touchy.

Mark: You should talk. You're dumping Mimi because she's about to die. What a jerk.

Roger: Shut up. Bye.

Mimi (jumps out) I hate you, you pig.

Mark: Ooooo. Conflict.

Roger: Um…well…

Mimi: Just came to say See you laaaaaater, obsessive lust. See you laaaaaater, obsessive lust, see you later…see you LAAAAATER, obsessive lust, see you—

Mark: Mightn't "goodbye, love" sound better?

Mimi: Hmmm…nah.

Roger: (runs)

Benny: Hey, howsabout some rehab?

Mimi: Sure, fine, whatever…

Benny: Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.

Mimi: (wanders off)

Pastor: (throws Collins out) We don't serve gay black guys with no money!

Collins: I still don't see why!

Mark: Dude. Why do you _think_?

Benny: Prejudiced idiot! I'll pay, man, don't worry.

Collins: Ok, well…Angel killed your dog!

Benny: I hated that dog. All is forgiven. I'll buy you a drink.

Collins: Two questions: what are you on and where can I get some?

Both: (leaves)

Mark: Back to you, Alexi! Up next: obsessive Broadway musical fan girls! Do they or do they not have magical powers?

Me: Wanna bet? (levitates Mark)

Mark: Please…put me down now…

Me: Oh, fine.

Roger: (who is some place, possibly Santa Fe) Life sucks without Mimi. I just can't win with this, can I?

Mark: Life sucks…just in general.

**there will be one more after this. dearie me!**


	7. Finale A to End

**my long final chapter! there might be a little after this if i can think of something, but probly not. i had fun writing this, and i hope you all like it!**_  
_

_Back in good ol' NYC…_

Homeless People: Well, we're all wearing exactly the same clothes from last year, standing in the same place as last year, and whining just as annoyingly as last year. It's nice to be consistent.

_The loft…_

Mark: December 24th, 10:00 pm, Eastern Standard Ti—holy crap, déjà vu.

Roger: Yeah, yeah, show that clip of me being hot while I tune my guitar.

Mark: Yes, master. (glares at Roger and turns on the projector; we see Roger tuning his guitar very hotly) Here's old Rogey, tuning that guitar which he pawned for a car and abandoned back here…not actually stopping to realize that, without a guitar, he couldn't make a living in Santa Fe as an angsty, hot, horny guitar player…and since that's the only thing he can do without being a total failure, he got his little brain in gear and came running back.

Roger: I resent that. I can be anything if I put my mind to it!

Mark: Of course you can. Oh, did I neglect to mention that not only did he fail to write a song, Mimi's flown the coop and now he's all horny without a purpose and giving me strange looks that make me hot and sweaty…

Roger: I did write a song! And Mark, I'm only looking at you like that because you've got something green dried to the top of your lip…

Mark: Oh. Um…sorry…but Mimi's still gone!

Roger: I know, it sucks, I tried, I tried, play the movie of me being hot!

Mark: Yes, we're showing this movie to celebrate Benny's ass being kicked out of the lot—

Roger: And we're celebrating me being hot, right? Right?

Mark: One-track mind, that boy. Anyways, we go live in three, two, one—

Power: BZZT! (dies)

Roger: Hmmm…correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a bit of a drawback to watching the movie, isn't it?

Mark: No, really. Whatever, I'm feeling shy and sensitive about it, so all for the better. Wonder how Alison found Benny was screwing Mimi?

Roger: Oh, I don't know, maybe she saw the lipstick on his ass, ever think of that?

Collins: (slides very suavely out of the shadows) I think Angel told her!

Mark: HOLY FUCK, don't DO that! (hyperventilates)

Roger: Mark, get a grip. Collins, you dog, what's up? You don't happen to have any…um…vodka, do you? For old times' sake?

Collins: Will money do instead?

Mark, Roger: (pounces) OURS!

Collins: Why so hesitant, guys? I'm feeling hurt here.

Mark: Jesus, Collins, where'd you get this? Oh my god, please don't tell me you finally took that job the author offered…that one which had a "no clothes required" policy…

Me: No, he did NOT take the job, damn it all! Damn and blast!

Collins: Mark, I am not that deluded or that desperate. I actually miss Angel, which is more than Roger's feeling for Mimi.

Roger: How you say that! I miss Mimi with all my heart; her absence is a burning pain in my heart! Every moment is suffering (sighs tragically)…anyhoodle, where's the dough from?

Collins: Food Emporium. ATM. Code A-N-G-E-L.

Mark: Collins, you do realize that the Food Emporium will now be mobbed by girls with mad desires to punch that code into the ATM and get rich off your mastery of wires and such, right?

Collins: Couldn't resist. Anyway, I was thinking about the whole Santa Fe thing again, wondering why I didn't throttle Roger for not taking me…

Roger: It wasn't so great. Trust me.

Collins: Oh well. Anyone up for being drunk?

Mark, Roger: HELL YE—

Maureen: Mark! Roger! Help!

Mark: What's the emergency?

Maureen: It's Mimi!

Mark: Is she dying?

Maureen: I think so…

Mark: You sure?

Maureen: Pretty sure.

Mark: So there's absolutely no way that we could get out of helping her in the next few hours while we drink ourselves into stupors?

Maureen: Don't think so.

Mark: Damn.

Maureen: Yeah, my apologies.

Mark: Fine, bring her up.

Maureen, Joanne: (rush into the loft, holding a pretty out-of-it Mimi, who they place on a cold, hard, coffee-stained table in a pathetic attempt to make her more comfortable)

Roger: Oh my god, you found her! I thought I looked everywhere!

Joanne: Did you check the streets?

Roger: You mean the place with all the heartbroken, HIV-positive, junkie S&M dancers? Heavens, no.

Joanne: Um…

Roger: Oh. Yeah. That's probably why I…_shit_, I'm stupid.

Mimi: (weakly) I'm…really, really chilly…light my candle…I should tell you…it's gonna be a happy new year…

Me: Oh, how cruelly ironic.

Mark: I'll go get some food and wood at Emergency Food and Wood R US!

Collins: That's just sad. And besides, she's pretty much dead, I really doubt a trash can fire and some Soup-In-A-Cup will miraculously cure her.

Mark: Fine, you think of something better.

Collins: I'll call 911!

Mark: Oh, sure, just because you're a genius…

911 Guy: Hello, please hold while we transfer you to accounting…

Collins: But I—

Phone: (plays muzak version of "Singing in the Rain")

Collins: Oh dear lord.

Mimi: Brrr…

Roger: Oh god, you look so sad and lonely and in need of a nice big hug…

Mimi: No, you dork, I'm dying, I want some soulful words and a big, fat, meaningful song, not a fucking hug.

Roger: Um, okay…

Mimi: By the way, I didn't sleep with Benny.

Roger: Oh, I knew it! I believe you, Mimi, I'm so sorry!

Mimi: I had to be on my death bed (table), slowly passing away and coughing my guts out to get you to believe me? We really need counseling, honey.

Roger: Mimi, I didn't leave because I hated you. I left because…because…um…

Mimi: Male issues?

Roger: Let's go with that.

Mimi: I love you, Roger. Though I can't figure out why for the life of me…

Everyone Else And Me: Neither can we.

Roger: (glares) Ahem. Having a _moment_ here…

Us: Sorry.

Roger: How dare you let me leave and screw everything up? The least you can do is listen to this little ditty I wrote…ahem.

Mimi: (starts praying that she'll die soon so she won't have to hear Roger say "ditty" again)

Roger: _John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmit! His name is my name too…whenever I go out, the people always shout…_

Mimi: (weakly and lovingly) There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmit…

Roger: _No,_ the line is, "I have always loved you." Jeez, you have no song-writing talent at all.

Mimi: That was sweet. Ridiculous, but sweet. Okay, time to die.

Roger: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Mimi: (dies)

Me: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…

Roger: (sob)

Mimi: (pops back up) With a moo-moo there and a moo-moo here…

Roger: What…the…fuck?

Everyone Else: Our thoughts exactly. (all cluster around Mimi, who is smiling in a way that suggests she left a few million brain cells in the Other Realm)

Mimi: I jumped over the moon…

Joanne: Sure you did, sweetie, sure you did…

Mimi: But it's true! I was in this tunnel…kind of like the time I got stuck in the tube-slide as a little kid…and there was a bright light at the other end!

Maureen: Holy shit. By the way, Mimi, how were you going to Heaven when you commit a couple thousand sins a day?

Mimi: Don't interrupt. Anyway, Angel was there, and she looked pretty good…mani-pedi, facial, the works, and I think she'd been working out…

Collins: You don't mind if I, you know, die in your place, right?

Mimi: And she told me, "Go back, baby girl, and help that poor boy with his tone-deafness…help him…" and then I woke up.

Roger: I would be insulted if I wasn't so happy! And horny…(grabs Mimi and sticks his tongue in her mouth)

Maureen: Um, not that Roger seems to care, but her fever's breaking…

Mark: All is well. I shall now proceed to make the author curl into the fetal position and weep. Harder than she is already, that is. (sings sweetly) There is no future, there is no past…

Roger, Mimi: Mmmmph. (meaning "thank god this moment's not the last, there's only us, there's only this, etc.")

Everyone: C'mon, sing along! (total strangers with really familiar faces start pouring out of the wings and singing)

Me: Stop…stop it…if you have any mercy, you'll stop and let me uncurl from the fetal position…

Everyone: Not a chance, toots.

Me: I know, I didn't mean it anyway; this is so damn pretty…

Mark: And now, defying all laws of physics, I shall turn on the projector, despite the fact that our power went out half an hour ago! (turns on projector)

Projector: (throws giant images of our friends across the wall; Roger and Mimi seem to be writhing under various sheets most of the time, while Maureen and Joanne are straddling each other and Angel and Collins are tangled up on the table. Mark is shown doing housework and stabbing pins into familiar-looking voodoo dolls)

Everyone: How, how cute. Time for a pileup on the table!

Angel: (hops out) Boo!

Me: (screams and begins to convulse in joy, sadness, emotion, and insanity)

Everyone Plus Angel: (cuddles on the table) No day but today!

Music: (fades out beautifully)

Me: (twitches a little more, takes a rest, then buys another ticket and faithfully tromps back in)

**and there you have it.**


End file.
